


Make it Stop

by ObsessedChick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Dacryphilia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Incest, Injury, M/M, Pre-Stanford Era (Supernatural), Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedChick/pseuds/ObsessedChick
Summary: Dean does what he has to to keep his soulmate, unaware just how much it hurts him until he returns home. AU! Where you feel the pain your soulmate feels.Possible triggers in tags.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Make it Stop

Dean's throat felt like it had closed the second the door slammed shut. Pain, small but sharp, in both his thighs stung so clearly, as he climbed the stairs to Sammy's bedroom. He didn't notice the tears falling to the ground with every step he took, just that it felt like his heart was burning. Felt like a red hot iron was inside his chest, squeezing the life out of him. He wasn't sure who's pain he felt more, his own or Sam's, or was it an awful, unbearable mixture of their grief. 

"Sammy?" He croaked, finally reaching the door.

He could hear sobs through the wood, that was all the invitation he needed to enter. He found his brother on the floor, face red and blotchy, crumpled up with tears and small streaks of blood on his thighs.

"Sammy," he sighed, instinctively grabbing around his brothers middle, pulling them both onto the bed, whispering "Sammy, Sammy…" 

"You said you wouldn't leave," he choked out, "you told me you wouldn't, Dean."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Sammy. Never again." 

"You said that the last time!" Sam accused, hands beating against Dean's chest. "The last town, the last state. Every time!" 

Dean could only hold on, not trusting his voice, as Sam wailed in his arms. He hated himself but he had to, he was doing this for them. John was already too suspicious of his son's. He couldn't risk permanently losing Sam. Sam knew his reasons for doing what he did, but he never stopped him. Only hurt in silence. This time though was different. He was making himself hurt other ways too.

"I wanted to stay, Sammy. Dad's watching us more now." Dean rocked back and forth. Sam was almost as tall as him but somehow it was still as easy as breathing. "I'll always be yours Sam, always." 

They stood for only a second more, Sam collapsing against Dean as the tears started to dry, replaced with dry heaves and too quick breaths. Dean fell backward onto the mattress on the floor, Sam's legs instinctively going to each side of Dean's thighs. Dean ran his hands over his basketball shorts, earning winces from both of them as the too fresh cuts were irritated against the fabric.

"Why did you do it, Sam?" He mumbled, hands roaming his body.

"I had to," Sam gasped, voice strained and weak, "It wouldn't stop hurting, Dean. I needed it to stop." 

Holding Sam against his chest was easy, they fit together like two sides of a broken heart. If he held on tight enough, surely, they would be whole, again. The pieces they shattered along the way would go back into place, he just needed to hold on tighter. Dean wasn't sure which one initiated the kiss, just felt his heart sink again as his lips became wet with tears. 

"Don't cry, Sammy." He begged. Kissing the streaks away.

"Don't leave, Dean." Sam pleaded.

Dean didn't make any promises. He kissed Sam around his face, down his neck. If he kissed enough, maybe Sam would be sure how much he loved him. If he left enough marks, Sam would know his heart belonged to him. He was sure of it. Sam was his, he was Sam's. 

"Touch me, Dean." Sam choked, "Please, love me." 

Dean did, pulling Sam's shirt away, kissing his way to any freckle, scar, inch of bare skin he could find. Sam's breathing was heavy, and neither was sure if it was from crying or from arousal. Dean needed Sam. He was going to make sure by the time the sun came up the next morning, he'd forget about anything that happened. 

His kisses went from sweet, loving pecks, to long, drawn out kisses, his brothers hips shivering as he went along. But the time he was at his hips, Sam was practically panting, holding Dean close to him by his hair, little whines escaping his lips. His large cock pressing impatiently against Dean's chest. 

"Please, Dean," he gasped when Dean pressed down, pecs rubbing his brothers hard on. 

"What do you want, Sam?" He teased, "Want me to touch you?"

Sam could only nod and bite his lip as Dean pushed down harder. Fuck, Dean thought watching sam writhe against the bed. He felt honored to be the only one who Sam wanted to touch him, no one else ever used his body like Dean did. He felt proud of every noise he could wring out of him. 

Whatever emotion he felt watching Sam turned to horror as he peeled off his shorts, blood from the many wounds on Sam's thighs had dried, making them stick. Sam winced and Dean gasped as wounds reopened. Little beads of blood began pooling at the surface of his skin. 

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean started but was speechless. He wasn't sure what to even say. The vice returned around his heart, tightening again. 

"Make it stop, Dean. I need to stop hurting. Make me feel good." Sam whispered, taking his cock in hand, he was still letting tears fall freely. Dean wasn't sure if he was heart broken or aroused watching his brother. 

"Of course," he leaned down, breathing the words against Sam's thighs. 

Sam kept his hand moving as Dean kissed the unmarked areas, licked away the dried and still wet blood drops that were no longer near open wounds. Sam moaned every time Dean's tongue dragged across his legs.

"Please, Dean," he begged, "I need you to fuck me." 

Looking down on Sam, who was hurting and begging, and so turned on he could hardly breathe, he knew he could never say no to that. Sam needed him and he was a good big brother. Fingers slick from lube probed against him, edging the taller man into a moaning mess. He knew this would hurt him but he also knew this is what his little brother needed right now. 

Sam nearly screamed as his fingers entered, the same second a long, hard swipe of Dean's tongue dragged across a row of cuts. He let out a long moan and his hand stilled against the base. He did it again and though he felt the pain himself he knew Sam felt something different. His fingers began moving faster as he bit against his thighs. Pink smears contrasting his pale skin.

"I need you to fuck me," He begged, pulling Dean by the hair up into a kiss. 

"I need you, Dean." They both worked at tearing away his clothes. 

"I love you, Dean," he didn't allow Deans to say it back, just kissed him deeply as Sam pushed his hips against Dean's hard dick. 

Dean didn't need to be told twice, he pushed in, discomfort appearing against his ass but Sam not seeming to mind, throwing his head back, groaning. Seeing Sam like this, fucked out and bloody, something broke in Dean. He wasn't sure if he felt pain or not, but he knew he'd do anything for Sam. His hips moved faster, hands pushing against the skin that was still bleeding and he could see Sam start to cry again. Body going rigid as sobs ripped though him.

Sam was so tight around him, their bodies coming together in a way that no one else could ever dream of having. He was Dean's and he said it enough, moaning his brother's name over and over again. 

Dean tried to push Sam's hand away as they both reached for his cock but the older wouldn't let him. Instead he settled on scraping his nails against the too irritated marks. 

"Fuck," Dean shouted, hips slowing. "What the hell, Sammy?" 

"Please, Dean, harder!" He sobbed.

Dean was helpless. His hips seemed to move on their own, fuckin into his brothers tight asshole like he wanted to hurt him. He wanted to take Sam, hold him and never hurt him but he did anyway, so he kept thrusting into him as Sam cried openly. 

"Fuck, Dean, I'm close," he gasped and Dean was too. 

He grabbed Sam by the hair, pulled his head back and sank his teeth down into his neck. Sam roared and came between them. Clawing at Dean's back like his life depended on it. Letting himself be used by Dean, as he thrust wildly, chasing after his own orgasm that spilled into Sam. 

The moon was bright, they didn't need to turn the lamp on to see the bed was destroyed. Blood and cum mixed on the sheets. Dean's arms wrapped around his brother, holding their naked bodies together as Sam slowed his tears. 

"I love you, Dean," he mumbled, sounding tired and small, "please don't leave me. We can do that as long as you want, just...dont leave." 

Dean watched in confusion as Sam began to drift into sleep. Sam wanted that...right? Or did he? Dean stayed awake, kissing at his brothers bare skin, his own tears falling against their bare skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment on this fic if you wish, I appreciate any feedback!


End file.
